


Summer Night

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Smut, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “Happy birthday, cutie.”“You didn’t have to do this,” he says, flustered. “I’d have been just as happy with dinner at home.”“We know,” Barry agrees. He sets down the basket and spreads out a checked picnic blanket. It’s so at odds with his bad-boy aesthetic that Len has to choke down a laugh. “But everything tastes better when you’re stealing a moment in the dark.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Iris West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I completely forgot about doing a Len's-birthday fic until the day of, and then it took me significantly longer to write than I expected, but here's a belated birthday fic! And, since people have requested more biker!WestAllen and nerd!Len (from [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23579278/chapters/57818086) and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044908/chapters/58887250) respectively), it's in that 'verse. The Explicit rating is for the second chapter - at the end of the first chapter, they allude to wanting to have sex, but I separated the smut as chapter two so anyone who wants to avoid it can. I hope you enjoy!

It’s a lovely warm night, and Len has all the windows open. He remembers this when playful hands fall on his shoulders and a smooth voice purrs, “Happy birthday, cutie.” 

“Iris.” He looks up from the blueprints that have been baffling him all evening. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

She kisses his nose. “Well. I guess we’re just that good.” 

“We have a little surprise for you.” Barry steps over and runs his hand along Len’s shoulder and upper arm. Good touch. Safe touch. They listened to where all his safe-touch places are, and now they’re able to touch him freely without frightening him or sending him into overstim. He likes it. “But it’s going to require you coming with us.”

“Should I go change?” The last time they stole him out of his apartment, they took him to a dimly-lit, low-key bar to help him unwind after the deadline of a stressful project. He’d ended up pleasantly buzzed, happy and flirty and pliant. They’d had him dress down in that case—jeans rather than slacks, a soft dark sweater, and he’d eventually ended up in Barry’s jacket. He’d liked that. 

Iris shakes her head. Her curls swing around her face, and he wants so badly to touch. “No, cutie. What you’re wearing now is fine.”

He nods, absurdly pleased by the thought that somehow, just by choosing his usual outfit, he’s been good for them. “May I…?”

“You can touch,” she agrees with a smile. She settles into his lap (to the faint, creaking distress of his chair) and pulls him into a kiss. He twines his hands in her hair, tugging gently near the base of her skull, the way she likes. She makes a happy sound into the kiss and scratches her nails against the nape of his neck. Oh, _good_ touch…

“We can kiss even more when we get where we’re going,” Barry promises. He brushes his fingers gently against Len’s throat—not applying pressure, just reminding him that he’s owned. Len is going to be pliant and easy for them before they even get him out the door. “Come on, cutie.”

When Iris lets him up, Len gets to his feet, grabs his keys, and moves for the door. Barry catches his arm. “And why would we let you do that when there’s a perfectly good fire escape right here?”

“Because I’m always afraid I’ll fall,” Len murmurs. Nonetheless, he lets them lure him down the fire escape. They like feeling as though they’re corrupting him, and he’s all-too-happy to be corrupted. 

When they reach the sidewalk, both Barry and Iris’s bikes are on the road. They look almost identical: sleek and dark, with jagged lightning bolts along their sides. Barry’s lightning bolt is a brilliant red, Iris’s vibrant purple. Len moves naturally to stand near Iris’s. When they don’t intend for him to ride along, they often ride on one bike. If they want to take him somewhere, they alternate who gets the privilege of having him clinging to them on the way. Iris says she likes it because it makes her feel trusted, so when it’s up to him, he rides with her. 

“You want to ride with me, cutie?” Iris checks. 

“Yes please.” Len settles behind her on the bike and wraps his arms around her waist. Barry pauses on his way to his own bike to give both of them kisses. 

“You’re so adorable,” he coos. “Both of you are.”

“Careful,” Iris taunts, “or I'll have to remind you who’s really in charge here.”

“Oooh, yes _ma’am,”_ Barry teases. He settles onto his bike, and for the first time, Len notices a picnic basket secured behind his seat. They’re taking him for a birthday picnic? “Let’s see how fast we can drive without losing anything—or anyone.”

Iris sneaks a sly grin over her shoulder at Len and coaxes, “Hold tight.”

They outstrip Barry by the end of the block. When they pull up to the park by the lakeside, Barry is far behind them. 

“The park is closed,” Len murmurs. It’s after dark, and…oh, of course they’d only bring him after dark. They like the feeling of being bad, even if it’s only by sneaking into the city park after sunset. 

“Nobody’s going to see us, cutie.” Iris reaches back to slide her hand up the outside of his thigh. He scoots forward unconsciously to give her better access. “Come on. Let’s go make it hard for Barry to find us.”

She guides him into a patch of grass outside the glow of any streetlights. Their silhouettes might be dimly visible, but anyone who’s not looking for them probably won’t find them. Len can just make out her grin in the dark. 

“Whoever designed the spacing of the street lights should be fired,” he muses. “Patches of darkness like this aren’t safe…”

“That’s really your worry right now?” She sounds vaguely put out. He’s halfway through an apology when her lips brush his. “You don’t know how to turn off your work brain for two minutes. It’s cute.”

The sound of a motorcycle engine stops him from replying. “We!” Barry interrupts. He knows them too well—even their hiding spot in the dark didn’t fool him. Iris laughs and turns to pull him into a hug. “I said ‘let’s see how fast _we_ can drive’!” 

“And clearly, of the two of us, I can drive faster,” Iris taunts. 

“That was never in question.” Barry brandishes the picnic basket. “But you had a passenger, not a basket precariously strapped behind your seat.” He pauses mid-rant to catch Len in a kiss. “Happy birthday, cutie.” 

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says, flustered. “I’d have been just as happy with dinner at home.”

“We know,” Barry agrees. He sets down the basket and spreads out a checked picnic blanket. It’s so at odds with his bad-boy aesthetic that Len has to choke down a laugh. “But everything tastes better when you’re stealing a moment in the dark.”

The blanket, as it turns out, is mostly for him. Barry sits beside him so he can cuddle him; Iris spreads out in the grass, taunting them about how they’re more visible on the red-and-white checked blanket than if they joined her in the grass. 

“So.” They seem to have chosen their picnic foods for the express purpose of hand-feeding him. Len can’t say he minds, at least as long as they allow him to reciprocate. “You know what I did all week. What’s happened for the two of you?” 

“Well,” Iris drawls, “I chased down a new lead about corruption in the mayor’s office. It’s shocking what people will say if you phrase it as getting the dirt on their rivals. And of course, when it comes to interviewing the ‘respectable’ sources…” She pitches her voice high and sweet. “‘Oh, of course, sir, thank you for your time, sir.’ Most of them will say just about anything if you smile sweetly enough because they don’t think a woman could write a story that might damage them.”

“You’d think they’d have learned better by now,” Barry says appreciatively. 

Iris laughs, warm and full-bellied. She has a gorgeous laugh, Len thinks. He’s heard her polite laugh often enough when they’re in company, but when she’s relaxed enough to laugh for real, nothing compares. “Oh, babe, it’s so cute that you think I won’t use their assumptions against them. They can think whatever they want as long as I have enough currency to make change where it counts.”

“Like with your readership,” Len murmurs. “And they trust you.”

“As long as I keep bringing them meaningful stories, they sure do.” Iris leans over and kisses his nose. “But go ahead and ask Barry what happened to him.”

“What happened?” Len asks, somewhat worried. 

“Well.” Barry skims his fingers over Len’s face. “I found…I mean, I guess you’d call it a fixer-upper. It’s not very pretty, but it’s got character. It’s a house that…I mean, if you wanted to…it would be big enough for all three of us.”

Len freezes. He certainly has the money to renovate a fixer-upper if he budgets well (and, if he’s allowed to boast, his budgeting skills are impeccable), but are they to that point? What if they move in together and he needs more alone time than he can get? What if his introvert tendencies are extreme enough to bring their entire relationship crashing down?

“It’s something we can talk about later,” Barry promises. “I’ll show you the listing. It’s got a lovely attic that’s set up as a bedroom right now, but we could convert it into an office or something if you need a high lonesome place to retreat to.”

Len makes a soft, startled sound and hides his face in Barry’s shoulder. He’s not used to people taking his need for alone time into account. “We can talk about it,” he agrees. 

They linger by the lakeside for over an hour, long after they’ve finished eating. At Len’s request, Barry tells stories of the latest fundraiser ride they took part in, from which all proceeds went to a domestic violence shelter. When Len teases him about being bad for a good cause, he protests, “Just because we like to break the occasional city ordinance, like curfew at the lakefront, doesn’t mean we’re _bad._ There’s making trouble and then there’s abuse, and the problem is a system that tends to treat troublemaking worse.”

“So this is an extended rebellious phase?” Len cuddles him. “Right, I forgot. I’m getting old, and you two are barely out of your rebellious teenage years.”

“Oh, hush you.” Iris swats his hand. “Even Barry isn’t _that_ much younger than you.” 

“He was a baby when I was graduating high school,” Len reminds her. “If I’d known him then, I could have killed him. I’m terrible at childcare.”

“Okay, first of all, no you’re not, shut up,” Barry scolds, “and second of all, if you’re too old for us, I guess you’re too old for us to take this party back to your place…”

“You think you can make me stop teasing you by promising sex?” Len laughs. 

Iris drops her voice to the low, promising tone it gets when she really wants to dominate them both. He should have known things would head this direction. “I don’t know, can we?”

So much for teasing back. When Iris takes that tone with him, he melts. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“You’re so cute.” Her voice reverts immediately to its light, playful tone, and she pushes herself to her feet. “Barry, help me clean up. There’s no need for the birthday boy to help clean up his own party.”

“I can—” Len offers. They shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for him. The least he can do is help clean up. 

“You’re going to go wait by the bikes.” Steel creeps back into Iris’s tone.

“Yes, ma’am,” Len agrees meekly. While they pack up, he drifts back over to the bikes. To be fair, he ought to ride with Barry on the way back, but Iris taking that tone with him makes him want to cling to her. He doesn’t think Barry will mind.

When the two of them walk over, they’re bickering playfully and swinging the picnic basket between them. Len grins at the sight. Whatever reputation they have to the rest of the city, he loves getting to see them relaxed and playful. 

“Ready to go?” Iris teases, settling onto her bike. Barry moves as though to fasten the picnic basket behind her seat; instead, Len settles into place behind her. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Oh, so it’s like that,” Barry grumbles, but he doesn’t sound overly upset. Instead, he settles on his bike and sighs, “I guess I’ll see you there?”

Iris feigns an exasperated huff. “I suppose I can confine myself to your turtle-like pace.” While Barry grumbles protests, she teases, “Come on, turtle. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

They re-enter his apartment by way of the fire escape, despite Len’s reminders that he has the key and can let them in the front door. Once they’re inside, Barry goes through the apartment closing up all the windows. “Trust me,” he says with a grin, “you’ll thank me for this in a minute.”

They’re going to make him scream. Len fights down a shiver. “What…what are you going to do to me?”

“I don’t know.” Iris kicks out of her boots and gives a happy little sigh. “What do you want us to do to you?” 

That’s a dangerous question. On the one hand, if he offers an idea they like or one that he’s particularly excited about, they’ll sometimes follow his suggestions. On the other hand, Iris is equally likely to say something along the lines of “That’s not what you _need,_ cutie” and to initiate a scene that leaves him too wrung out to speak. 

“I want…” They’ve gone to so much trouble. The least he can do is thank them. “I want to be your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Well then.” Iris looks him over. He fights the urge to curl in on himself. Her gazes have weight to them, like a caress, and no matter how many times she scolds him for trying to hide, he can’t help wanting to protect himself from them. “I think we’re going to tie you up so you can’t hide from us. Then we’re going to kiss and praise you until you’re blushing, use you like our toy until you’re so deep in subspace you can’t tell up from down, and make you come so hard you forget your own name. Does that sound like a plan?”

Len is sure he’s already blushing. “Yes ma’am.”

Undressing, as always, is a tangle of too many limbs. They both want to help him and each other, and he wants to help both of them, and when he ends up tripping over his slacks, they realize it’s best to each undress and reconvene on the bed. 

Upon reconvening on the bed, Len finds himself pushed onto his back and pinned down. Iris secures his wrists with cuffs; Barry secures a spreader bar on his ankles. He instinctively tries to clamp his legs shut. The spreader bar makes him feel vulnerable, and while he always ends up liking it, the first few minutes inevitably remind him of how nervous he is about it. 

“Shh, baby.” Barry kisses the inside of his knee. “You’re doing so well. We want you nice and spread out for us, okay? That way you can’t try to hide.”

Len considers answering, but then Iris is nibbling on the sensitive spot under his ear and okay, this is good…

“You’re so good for us,” she coos, dragging her nails over his shoulder. “We want you to scream for us tonight, birthday boy. Let yourself feel good.”

Len manages to keep from making noise for a full two minutes; after that, he moans and keens the way they want him to. Iris sucks hickeys along his neck and shoulders until he begs for more; Barry whispers praise against his belly between gentle kisses that make him feel more exposed than roughness ever could. His begging does nothing. They’re in charge, and they’re going to explore him until they’re satisfied. That knowledge makes him relax into the restraints, content to submit to their affection.

Once he relaxes, everything is a blissful freefall. He’s so floaty that the change from being kissed and praised to being straddled and used like a toy is bewildering. 

“Shh.” Iris laces her fingers through his and settles over his face. “Remember, cutie? You asked us to use you. And I know how good it makes you feel to be good for us.”

Len mumbles his agreement and squeezes her hand. He’s their good toy. He wants to be their good toy. 

Being used for their pleasure is, as Iris promised, enough to strip away anything that isn’t _here, now, good._ Iris’s moans. Her scent, her taste. Barry’s heat around him as he rides Len like a toy. The constant stream of curses and praise falling from Barry’s lips. Pleasure secondary to the bliss of knowing he’s good.

Iris comes first, shaking and grinding down against his face. Len makes happy noises against her, pleased that he’s made her feel good. Iris’s pleasure means he’s good. When Barry follows close behind her, moaning and spurting, Len is content. He was good for them. That’s all that matters. 

He could have been perfectly satisfied like that, too floaty-happy to even notice the denial, but Barry’s heat lifts off him and then Iris’s hand is wrapped around his cock. “Baby,” she coos. Her hand starts moving torturously slowly. Len whimpers and tries to roll his hips up. So much for being satisfied with denial. 

“Oh.” Barry curls up beside him and starts lavishing his messy face with kisses. While he kisses him, his nimble fingers sneak up to undo the cuffs. As soon as his hands are free, Len reaches over to cuddle Barry close. “She’s done this to me, too. Happy birthday to you.”

Len mewls in confusion—that sounds both ominous and incredibly promising—before realizing exactly what Barry means. The slow, unrelenting pleasure is enough to leave him begging incoherently for her to please go faster, please, wasn’t he good for them, couldn’t she please…? When Iris finally coaxes, “Come for me, baby,” even his orgasm is long-drawn-out. 

“Hmm,” is all he can say when it’s over. 

“Yep,” Barry agrees. He kisses Len gently on the mouth and says, “See?”

“Happy birthday, cutie,” Iris coos, settling on his other side. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder. He manages to tighten a clumsy arm around her shoulders. It’s hard to speak, but he’s so grateful to them.

“You were so good,” Barry assures him. “Wasn’t he, Iris?”

“Of course.” Iris kisses his cheek. “Our cutie. So sweet for us, no matter how out of our age bracket you are.”

The return to the earlier teasing makes Len huff an exhausted laugh and nudge his shoulder against her. He still can’t hold onto words long enough to make a clever response, but if they think he won’t hold onto the age-related teasing for their birthdays, they’re wrong. 

“We love you,” Barry adds. 

“We do,” Iris agrees. 

Words are still hard, but he gives each of them a kiss in turn, a silent ‘love you too.’


End file.
